


Mountain Philosophy

by Gilli_ann



Category: Brokeback Mountain (2005)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Humor, Introspection, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-23 01:26:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6100297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilli_ann/pseuds/Gilli_ann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack discovers his own personal version of the yin/yang principle while sharing life and love with Ennis on Brokeback mountain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mountain Philosophy

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Jack, Ennis and Brokeback Mountain belong to Annie Proulx, Diana Ossana, Larry McMurtry and Focus Features. I intend no copyright infringement and make no profit.

  


The sun beat down on the mountain.

They lay in a tangled heap, distant bleating washing over them, a sweet cooling wind nipping at their sweat-drenched shirts and stroking their exposed and sensitive skin.

The urge had come over them so sudden and intense, it had been all they could do to kick off their boots and jeans to secure freedom of movement and go at it, frantic and jubilant and laughing and snorting. 

“Damn,” Ennis puffed, sated and drunk on Jack and sun and sex.

Jack laughed, a soft pleasant tickle reaching Ennis’s ears. He scooted out from under the heavy limbs weighing him down and rolled around, using Ennis’s chest as a pillow. He lay there wide-eyed on the top of the world, the sky above so high and wide he could see forever. The kind of sky to make philosophers think about the big questions, and preachers discover new words for the good Lord’s grace.

They shared a smoke, Jack taking his hits absentmindedly from between Ennis’s fingers. Once that was done, he draped Ennis’s arm across his own chest, feeling it clamping solidly in place. His own arm alongside, he clasped Ennis’s hand, entwining their fingers.

Ennis shifted under him, squeezed him tight, but said nothing.

They exhaled in unison, bodies sprawling with the rightness of life.

Ennis had been up most of the night, chasing those damn cunning coyotes, and was already dozing contentedly now his energies had been spent so thoroughly. Jack still had some excess energy left and felt his mind kicking into gear to pick up the slack while his body was so completely at ease.

He looked down at their arms, studying the two shirt sleeves.

“We match up, even if we don’t,” he thought to himself. “Look at that. Denim, plaid…. Black hat, white hat. Brown eyes and blue.”

He grinned up at the sky. “Not to forget the soup and beans! Yeah, we’re like opposites in many ways.”

He figured he could easily go on finding more contrasts if he tried.

Even down below where they were baring themselves completely to the sky and the mountain, they were different. Jack lifted his head a little and studied their spent cocks with curiosity and approval. Plump still and shiny, well used, resting on skin flecked with come. The shameless sight gave him a jolt of pure pleasure, licks of heat along every limb like sunshine flaring inside. He figured Ennis couldn’t know where his eyes were roaming, so took his sweet time enjoying the tempting view, doing a silent contrast and compare. Cut. Uncut. Golden curls and dark pelt. He wondered idly what it’d be like to have all that extra material to deal with. He liked nothing better than to play with Ennis’s. Well, at any rate they sure were similar but different down there, too.

Jack had once heard someone say that opposites attract. From his current vantage point he knew without a doubt that the saying was no less than the Lord’s own truth.

He wriggled against Ennis, bringing his slightly tender ass in better contact with the warm skin of a bare thigh. Ennis muttered something in drowsy appreciation or protest - always hard to tell the difference with him - and held Jack as tightly as before.

“Fuck them sheep fer once,” he murmured thickly. “Mmm’a stay here a lil’while.”

Jack pondered the prospects. “Bud, we stay bare-assed much longer we’ll have sunburn on places you don’t even wanna mention ta decent folks,” he objected. His eyes still lingered lovingly on the two healthy cocks on display, and unexpectedly he found himself the voice of reason in their smooth-skinned defense. He tried to squirm out of Ennis’s grip and to sit up.

Ennis ignored his efforts. “Jack fuckin’ Twist, always moanin’ and grousin’,” he grumbled sleepily. He pulled Jack in firmly, covering most of himself with that strong solid body. No better sunscreen available on their mountain than that. Reaching out for his own hat, Ennis placed it with precision directly over Jack’s privates. Then he fished for the black hat too, and fondly covered Jack’s entire face with it.

“Now would ya quit complainin’, dumb-ass? Are we good here?”

Jack stretched and relaxed, letting out a mock drawn-out snore in contented reply, muted by the dark cover of the hat.

Ennis chuckled, but the sound drifted off as his breathing turned deep and even.

They slept. The deep, satisfied sleep of the not-so-innocent, wearing nothing but their shirts and each other.

High up above a hawk circled, searching their rocky meadow and surrounding slopes for prey. There wasn’t the tiniest movement to catch its eye, and it passed over the mountain and disappeared in the distance with a high-pitched and plaintive cry.

\- x x x - 

In the afternoon they woke with chinks in their backs and a multitude of muscle aches that they by mutual consent appeased with another round of vigorous physical activity, strenuous but deeply satisfying.

Afterwards, hungry as hell, they got themselves down to camp and prepared a hurried supper.

Ennis’s good mood had disappeared as soon as he placed his hat back on his head, a strained “Son of a fuckin’ bitch!” escaping his narrow lips. Now he sat by the fire, short-tempered and glaring into the flames.

Jack studied him out of the corner of his eye, trying not to be obvious about it. Ennis’s forehead, normally protected by his hat, had been exposed to the high altitude sun for hours. It blazed as red as any forest wildfire. Valiantly holding back a “told ya so”, Jack tried his best not to look too openly righteous. He truly worried about Ennis’s condition.

Wringing his bandanna carefully out in cold water from the stream, Jack placed it gently over the blistered blond head. Ennis winced and hissed as the cool cloth touched his fiery skin. Taking his calling as ministering angel seriously, Jack figured that later he’d grease Ennis up with bag balm, the only liniment they had. That probably would serve just as well in front as down below, his practical sense told him.

Obviously Ennis was in no mood to say a word or even listen to someone else talking, so Jack once more retreated to his own silent ruminations.

He considered the two of them. Similar pains in opposite places. Ennis, aching and sore, forehead singed and burning like a beacon for the whole world to see. He himself feeling exactly the same kind of sting, but down back where no-one but Ennis had any business shining a light. Yeah, his ass burned, seared hot and branded by this day’s repeated and intense happy highs.

Every discomfort notwithstanding, Jack secretly thought it worth a good laugh, but knew Ennis would explode if he were to mention that particular comparative analysis out loud.

He only nodded to himself in tacit philosophical confirmation. In this situation, as in so many others, they were different but alike, similar even when distinct. An echo connecting two opposing mountain sides. Joy and pain. Inside and out. Black hat and white. Ennis and himself. Two mirroring halves making one surprisingly seamless whole.

They contrasted and so completed each other.

A damnably difficult puzzle sometimes, but once their pieces were slotted into place: A perfect fit.


End file.
